Into the City of Crows
by inversered
Summary: Let me tell you a story. It begins with a boy waking up as a child, in a world that was once a dream. The clock is ticking, and the end draws near... [Uchiha SI]
1. Chapter 1

**Into the City of Crows**

 **I. Wisteria**

I looked into the mirror.

A small boy looked back at me, button nosed and pudgy in the way all children are. His beady black eyes were furrowed, and there was an out of place scowl on his face. I waved at the boy in the mirror, and he waved back.

That's me, I thought. I am that boy.

But, I was someone else too. I knew this to be the truth, as sure of it like I was sure of the fact that the sun rises in the east.

Who was I, really?

Over the past year or so, I think I slowly gained consciousness, and only now am I capable of cognitive thought. My name was Shin, but I was also someone else long ago. I remember dying, and I vaguely remember growing up as the child I now was.

I walked out from my room with surprising dexterity for a three year old child. I assumed I would feel uncomfortable with the change in height, but I didn't. Naturally, I must have subconsciously gotten used to the change.

I was Shin. I was still me. Right?

I thought and moved through the house. My little feet tapped accross the polished wooden floor, and I slid apart a rice paper door to find myself in the dining room. Father was humming a jaunty tune and peeling potatoes with a knife. He rested the edge of the blade against the skin, and with what seemed to be a whiplash, the potato was peeled bare.

I rubbed my eyes. Must be seeing things.

"Have a nice nap, Shin?" he asked warmly. I nodded and moved towards him.

"Up."

Father laughed and scooped me up with one arm. The crook of his neck was warm and familiar, and at that moment, I found myself craving familiarity. Father continued to hum, occasionally throwing in a word or two. I closed my eyes, and listened.

He hadn't spoken in English, I realised, yet I understood most of what he had said anyway.

Where was I?

Father had straight locks of dark hair and coal eyes, much like my own. His skin was a shade darker however. Father had the look of someone who spent long hours beneath the morning sun. I turned my thoughts to the house, to the paper doors. Shoji, my mind supplied; traditionally japanese.

Was that where I was?

"You sure are squirming a lot today, Shin. Is anything wrong?"

Father pulled me off his shoulders and looked at me. Then he curled his lips and wiggled his eyebrows, in an attempt to cheer me up. While the absurd faces made by this austere looking man-no, my father, would've cracked me up on any other day, that day I remained silent.

My eyes moved upwards.

I hadn't noticed it before, but on father's forehead was a metal plate, held up by the dark cloth band it was sewn on. A spiral leaf was intricately engraved onto the plate. I reached out for the hitai-ate, tracing the grooves of the spiral with my own tiny fingers.

"Oh, you like dad's hitai-ate do you? Yes you do!" father exclaimed while rubbing a ticklish spot behind my knee. I giggled, and moved away. Of course, the hitai-ate was nothing uncommon. Many of my uncles wore it, as well as my mother. It was the mark of a Konoha ninja.

I blinked.

Konoha ninja.

I looked at my father's forehead again. Was he a particularly enthusiastic Naruto fan then? Deep within my gut, I already knew the answer.

Father went back to his chores, twirling a knife with impossible speed on his right hand, peeling vegetables in the blink of an eye with incredible precision. I felt dizzy staring at his knifework, so I looked away. Every where I looked, a red and white fan greeted me.

It was on the walls, on the clothes, on the tablecloth. It was emblazoned proudly on the back of father's shirt.

I knew this symbol.

The red and white fan, the Uchiwa. The mark of a powerful ninja clan, one of the noble clans of the Leaf. Uchiha Ichizoku.

"We go...out?" I asked with my limited vocabulary. I think I knew where I was, but it was too far-fetched a theory for me to accept without confirmation.

"You wanna go outside?" Father asked, and I nodded in reply. He shrugged, and picked me up. After quickly washing his right hand on the nearby sink, father moved out of the house with me on his shoulders. He set off at a brisk pace, through a winding set of roads with crimson paper lanterns hanging overhead.

I looked this way and that, taking in all that I could see. There was a somber tone to the air, a melancholic mood among the people I observed. Many of them wore hitai-ate, and some even had the Uchiwa on their back. I almost let go of father's neck when I saw a blur jump accross the rooftops.

I asked father why so many people were sad.

He looked at me with surprise, before looking back at the road. "Well, Shin, that's because of the war."

"War?" I asked, repeating the unfamiliar word.

"Hm. When different groups of people fight due to their clashing beliefs, it's called a war," father trailed off, as I struggled to understand what he said. He looked at me and imparted a simple, honest lesson. "War results in death, little Shin. And death makes people sad."

I did not ask him any more questions, because I finally saw what I had been looking for.

Straight ahead to the north was a mountain which towered over the skyline. It was massive; it was imposing.

The faces of the greatest sons of the Land of Fire stared down at me with judging eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Into the City of Crows**

 **II. Fledgling**

Uchiha Shin.

That was my name.

I was a three year old boy from the Uchiha clan, born near the end of the Third War.

I was usually a happy child from what I saw in my memories, but that day, I didn't feel like laughing too much. Seeing the Hokage mountain with my very own eyes had stunned me into silence.

At the far left was the Shodaime, Senju Hashirama; followed by his younger brother, Tobirama. The last face was surely that of Sarutobi Hiruzen, the third and longest reigning Kage of Konoha.

Soon, there'll be a fourth face up there.

I wondered how long I had before Namikaze Minato took the hat from Sarutobi, and how long after that till the Kyuubi incident. The beginning of the end, the event that would set everything in motion. It would end with blood splattered across maybe the very streets I'm now moving through, the Uchiha clan culled and slaughtered like cattle...

I shivered.

"You must not be feeling too well today, Shin," father suddenly spoke up.

It seems he noticed my odd mood.

"Let's get you home. You can take a nice long nap, and wake up to have the cream soup I'll be making. Okay?"

"Okay."

We walked back through the streets of Konoha, father occasionally greeting someone or other. A sea of dark haired men and women. My aunts and uncles, my cousins and relatives. It'll be a nightmare to remember all their names.

"Hey there, Kou-nii!" father called out to yet another dark haired man. My attention was not grabbed by my apparent uncle however, but by the young boy next to him.

While father talked with the man, the boy walked up to his side and reached up...

...to poke me in the cheek.

"Hi Shin-chan! Why do you look so gloomy today?"

I was blinded by his grin, and blinked. This was...

"Shisui-nii," I muttered, slowly giving him a half-smile.

Shisui and I were first cousins; his father was my dad's older brother. Was I a descendant of Uchiha Kagami then?

Dad let me down so that Shisui and I could talk.

"So I learned how to do the transformation jutsu today," Shisui suddenly piped up, explaining the reason for his happiness.

My interest was piqued immediately at the mention of a jutsu. Here was an opportunity to see one with my own eyes.

"Can you show me, Nii-san?" I asked with unfaked excitement. I had completely forgotten about chakra, and all the magical abilities that would come along with being a ninja. Someday, I'll be able to walk on trees, walk on water and even breathe fire. Isn't that an amusing thought?

Shisui contorted his fingers quickly into what seemed like the ram seal, and then I felt a small flux of

 _something._

With a puff of smoke, I was looking at an exact copy of myself. Wide eyes, a button nose and the most poke-worthy cheeks I've ever seen.

I was a pretty cute kid, if I said so myself.

While I indulged in some well due narcissism, Shisui pranced around and showed off. He eventually dispelled the technique, returning to his own form- all devious smiles and mischievous grins.

"So, whadya think?" he asked with a tilt of his lips.

He reminded me of a crow, his ruffled black hair like feathers shifting in the wind, his smile like the wicked curve of a beak.

"It was awesome," I replied with a smile of my own.

* * *

Shisui was three years older than me, a student at the ninja academy.

There were already whispers of his excellence among the members of our clan. Shisui's prodigal skill in the ninja arts will keep on growing with time. Soon, he'll be a genin, and then a chunin and beyond.

He will join the fabled ranks of the Anbu somewhere along the way, and commit suicide not long after Danzo plucks out his right eye.

It felt strange, to reconcile the image of Shunshin no Shisui, grim and bleeding from both eyeless sockets, with the young boy he was now.

But he was not the Uchiha I was the most interested in.

* * *

"...ree...two...one, here I come!" exclaimed one of my other cousins, Saburou.

Often, the Uchiha kids got together and played ninja hide and seek. It didn't really differ from regular hide and seek except for the fact that once found, the person hiding could run from the seeker. The latter carried around rubber and wood shuriken which he could use to pelt the running person.

If you got hit by a shuriken, or were caught by the seeker, you were 'dead' and had to wait out the rest of the game.

How violent.

They're easing in children barely able to think for themselves to the concept of killing. It was strangely fitting however, considering the circumstances of the world. Society itself was built around the art of killing at its core.

Vague moral contemplations aside, I was rather fond of the ninja games I played with other children to pass the time. They were as exciting as they were challenging, worth every hit by a rubber shuriken and the numerous screaming rows and tantrums thrown by others my age.

...Nah. Scratch out that last part.

The game had started. I hid beneath a large tree, the kind that can be found all over Konoha. My trick was that I skowly kept moving around the tree trunk to avoid detection, having already cleared out some of the leaves on the ground so that my feet did not crunch on them. Saburou looked behind the tree once, but failed to find me as I danced away to the other side in silent awesomeness.

After he was gone, someone called out to me.

"Hey."

The voice came from nearby, and I quickly looked around to see...

No one.

"Up here," said the voice, sounding vaguely amused.

I quickly looked up, and saw a pair of dangling legs. I could've sworn that there was no one above when I first checked the tree! But now, there was some punk my age sitting up there, looking down at me smugly.

"When did you get up there!?" I asked, outraged. Not only did he pick my tree to climb, but how the hell did he climb it anyway? The tree trunk was massive, and there were no footholds or smaller branches for climbing.

"I climbed up when you were clearing out the leaves," he admitted easily.

For a four year old boy, he sure could speak well. His words were clear and his speech was fluent, almost like that of an adult. I felt a bit embarassed at my own mangled use of the local tongue.

He swung his legs, before jumping down with unnatural grace. For a moment, he was a bird, flying with his arms spread wide. Then he landed with his knees tucked in, moving into a front roll. He got up dusty but unharmed, and was clearly proud of himself. The bird was once more a boy.

I know I'm in the ninja world, but four year old children do not jump off twelve feet high branches with such ease, do they?

"I'm Itachi. What's your name?" he asked while dusting off his shorts.

* * *

That's how I first met him.

Uchiha Itachi.

The clan head's son.

When I looked into those coal black eyes and watched that amused smile, I didn't see the precocious child, the little genius, the heir to the Uchiha name.

No.

I saw perhaps the greatest shinobi to be ever born in the Leaf...

...and the person who will kill me nearly a decade later.

* * *

"Shin," I replied bitterly. "Uchiha Shin."


	3. Chapter 3

**Into the City of Crows**

 **III. Aspirations**

Itachi and I weren't friends at first sight.

* * *

Don't get me wrong; I didn't really dislike him or anything. Itachi was a good kid, but there was always that wall between us, the burden of my foreknowledge.

The thought had briefly come to mind when I saw Shisui, young and smiling without care. Seeing Itachi as a child drove the fact home- that I'd been born in the same generation as him. In not even a decade the Uchiha clan would fall; and Itachi would slaughter them down to near every man and child.

We knew each other in passing like all Uchiha children tended to do, but I never bothered to take that extra step to try and really get to know him. Many of my cousins, both old and young went out of their way to be friendly with Itachi- and perhaps most of their reasonings were even genuine. He was the clan head's son, but Itachi was a kind child. He was like that one kid in your class, who's good at both sports and studies, and easily becomes friends with everyone.

Barring me. I never failed to be polite to Itachi, but I didn't prefer to prolong our conversations when we occasionally talked. His eyes were always curious and far-seeing whenever I saw them, and I feared that he would find me out, know that I knew the future.

Perhaps I was merely being a paranoid little shit.

Itachi was still a child, genius or not. But I took no chances, and remained a passing acquaintance. I was Shin, that one aloof cousin and nothing more.

Or so I'd thought.

* * *

"First day on the job," Shisui said with his ever present grin. "I expected him to ask me of my glorious achievements and to teach him the secrets of the world, but he didn't."

Shisui had been assigned as Itachi's guardian of sorts, following his exceptional results at the academy. It is a position of the highest honor, a mark of the clan head's favour.

It was sometime around afternoon. Shisui and I were skipping rocks accross the bank of the Naka river in the waning yellow light. I threw with as much force I could, yet my throws didn't even pass halfway through the bend. Shisui's ones smoothly parted the river surface, skimming accross the top to reach the other side.

"Well, what did you two talk about, then?" I asked to keep the conversation going, while observing Shisui's wrist movement.

"You."

"I see- wait, what?"

"Itachi asked me about you, my boring, grumpy yet undeniably cute little cousin."

"Huh."

"He says you're different from the others."

"Different as in, not as much of a suck up?" I grumbled. Was that the reverse psychology thing my sister used to harp on about? Playing hard to get?

Shisui laughed, and ruffled my hair.

"I knew I was a good influence on you!"

He was. Without his exemplary academic records, most people would take one look at Shisui and declare him a delinquent. Never one for the rules, be it drawing graffiti on the walls of the military police headquarters, or using the ornamental cherry blossom trees in kunai and shuriken-throwing practice.

Shisui often got away with his misdeeds though. I think Lord Fugaku was rather fond of him, in an exasperated sort of way. I remember seeing him reprimanding Shisui for leaving muddy footprints on some random civillian's walls as a result of his wall-walking escapades, but there was never any heat in his words. I could've sworn his lips curled up once or twice, supressing a smile.

Shisui streched lightly, and then got up.

"Hm, I've got some stuff to do; training, homework and all that. I'll catch up with you some other day, okay cuz?"

"Sure. See ya later, Shisui-nii."

He turned around, towards the housing areas of the Uchiha. Much like myself, Shisui wore one of those high collared shirts, his being a deep blue where mine was more on the grey side. But that was not the only difference.

There was a massive red and white fan proudly stretched out across his back.

With a jaunty wave, Shisui disappeared into thin air, the only signs of his prior presence being a cluster of leaves slowly floating down.

I sat for a while more at the riverbank, listening to the strangely calming sounds of the river rushing through to the east.

Shisui was only seven years old, I thought. Yet here he was, already flitting around in the wind with his shunshin even before graduating from the academy. That fan on his back? That's a statement, the mark of an Uchiha ninja who had come of age in the eyes of the clan.

Shisui can do the Katon: Goukayu no Jutsu.

Me? I still haven't trained a single day in my life. I'm due to begin the academy next year, when I turn five. My dad also didn't seem to have any inclination to teach his four year old son how to kill either. I was mostly left to my own devices, as dad was busy running missions and generally relaxing when he was home. The sheer amount of freedom I'd been allowed was one of the reasons I loved him even more.

I watched one of the leaves from Shisui's shunshin make their way down to the river, getting swept away in the current.

Would I be swept away too? Would my presence really change anything, in the grand scheme of things?

Did I even need to change anything?

The answer to the final question at least, was clear.

Yes.

I didn't want to die. Not again. Life in Konoha wasn't that bad, even though war ran rampant beyond its great walls. Events were already shaping up behind the curtains; there were lies being told and games being played while I sat and idly breathed in the mid-autumn air.

I needed to get stronger. The clock was ticking, and I did not wish to end up as another corpse rotting on the streets of the Uchiha district when time ran out.

Slowly, I picked up one of the many pebbles littering the riverbank. It was white and smooth, worn down by the rushing stream. I weighed it in my palm and then shifted back my shoulders. I thought back to how Shisui had twisted his wrists, and then I did the same.

 _I breathed. I threw._

 _._

The rock skipped over to the other side.

.

* * *

.

AN: Busy college life equals shitty writing scedules. . .


End file.
